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Bible Black Gives Anon PTSD By AndroidConan 7/2/2021 Version 1.0 I I had been looking at pom for a couple of years. The only thing I looked at was pin-up. For those of you who don't what pin-up is, it's basically this: women showing their t---, sometimes their ass, and posing, and the photo shoot usually has some kind of theme to it. Well, that was all good and fine, but I was craving something more hardcore. Now I was a big weaboo at the time. I was devouring Fullmetal Alchemist, Case Closed, and Dragon Ball Z. So, it occurred to me one day, I like anime, I'm looking for some new pom, why not look at pomographic anime? I knew hentai existed, but I had not dipped my toe in the water as of yet. So, I headed over to a hentai discussion board. I explained that I was new to the genre and that I was looking for suggestions. All the suggestions were the same: you should watch Bible Black. Now, no one was saying what Bible Black was about but after reading that I should watch Bible Black from seven different people, I decided that t must be some good s---. Just as I am about to Google it, I see a comment waming me not to look up Bible Black. That caught my attention, and I read on. The user's comment said that he was a big Bible Black fan and that if he were able to watch it again for the first time, he would do it without knowing what it was about, so he could fully enjoy the plot and the sex scenes. Well, that sounded pretty good to me. The user's comment even included a link to one of the episodes. I was home alone, and I had my pants off by the time video had finished loading. I'm sitting there watching the show, with half an erection from anticipation, but I'm also bored by the slow plot development. I understood the story was building up to something, so I kept watching. Eventually I got to a scene where a high school boy is about to have a sexual encounter with a girl he has just met. She begins to take off the skirt she's wearing. The camera pans to the guy, and he has this pleased expression on his face. The camera pans back to the girl and she has her skirt and panties off. She has her hands over her crotch, so you can't see her vag. My d--- goes from half-erect to fully-erect. Oh boy, I think, s--- is getting hot. Then came the sound. Now, those of you who have never seen Bible Black will never fully comprehend the sound I am about to describe. But the first time I heard it, my brain interpreted it as this. Every so often, my family and I would visit the lake. On a quiet day, when no one else is around, I had the privilege to experience the sound of a fish swimming quickly across the surface of the water. It's hard to describe exactly, but it sounds like a wet ripping sound. It is very distinct and, up until the day I watched Bible Black, I had never heard it anywhere else. So, when I heard the sound issue from my computer's speaker, I immediately wondered, how I had gotten from my computer room to the lake. Then she moved her hands and spread her legs. My blood completely drained out of me, peepee included. A huge monster-sized c--- had shot out of the girl's body. The camera pans to the boy's face. His eyes are wide open in terror, and that's what I imagine my own eyes looked like at that moment. I am paralyzed by fear. I stare at the monitor. I am horrified, but I'm unable to look away. The girl takes pleasure in the guy's horror. Her monster-sized c--- goes from flaccid to erect faster than a Bugatti a goes from O to 60. She advances towards the guy. My brain registers what is about to happen. I regain control of my body and close the intermet browser. I get up from the desk, and I wander aimlessly around my house. I am still trying to comprehend what I have just seen. I am also having difficulty walking and it takes me several minutes to realize why. My pants are still down around my ankles. I pull up my pants and go back to the desk. I don't open up the browser. I take a folder out of my backpack, and I begin DAS IST NOT EINE P----! to do my homework. Perhaps you have seen encountered something traumatic in your life. Perhaps you have been in a horific car crash where someone was killed. Maybe you have witnessed a mass shooting first hand. When the event is over, your life slowly retums to normal, but your mind continues to replay the events over and over. So, as I sat there doing my homework, the wet ripping sound echoed through my head and the image of the giant monster-sized c--- emerging from the girl's body looped endlessly. II I gave up pom immediately. At first, that seemed to be the only side effect of the Bible Black incident. But, a few weeks later, I began to notice something else. I began to experience anxiety attacks for no reason. It continued to build and, when I couldn't resolve it, it led to frustration and eventually anger. I also started to feel as though I were carrying a weight that I couldn't put down. I didn't know why it was happening, but I eventually realized it had something to do with what I had seen. My parents were pretty chill. If I was struggling emotionally in anyway, they would help me out. They would never drill me or ask me why I'm struggling; they'd just help. So, when I told them I needed to see a therapist they didn't ask me why. They just helped me make an appointment. In a month's time, I am sitting in front of a therapist, recounting my story to him. He's quiet most of the time. Occasionally, he nods his head and goes "mhm" or "a-ha". As I tell him my story, I think I can see the gears grinding in his head. Heis scouring his brain, using his medical expertise, searching for an answer. Near the end of the session, he finally speaks. "Anon," he says, "you need to accept what has happened and move on." Then he offers me a solution. Instead of dwelling on the trauma, I should make light of it. If I channel my grief into something constructive, it will eventually go away. If I make jokes about what has happened, I will eventually stop viewing it as traumatic. I may even be able to view it as a funny incident-as a part of growing up. I do what he says. I make jokes about Bible Black. I tell my friends that they sit in their rooms and watch Bible Black al1 day. If one of them mentioned something I didn't like, I said, "That s--- is gayer than Bible Black." My friends get my jokes. They laugh. It seems like I'm having a good time, but I'm not. Every time I make a joke, I am reliving the trauma. Jokes don't help and, I still feel the weight. But for whatever reason the trauma does seem to fade away, at least it seemed to. I started dating after I gave up p---. I met a girl in my sophomore year of high school. We were now in our senior year. We both wanted to take our relationship to the next level. One day, it was a Friday; I went over to house after school to hang out. We were sitting on her couch and watching TV. I thought the sitcom we we're watching was stupid, but I laughed every now and then to make her think I was having a good time. The show goes to commercial. That's when she put her hand on my thigh. I looked over at her, and she gave me this look that sends a chill down my spine. She said her parents won't be home until after eight. We are in her bedroom. I am unzipping my jeans. She is standing opposite of me, and she is undoing her blouse. I catch a glimpse of her cleavage. This will be my first time with a girl and I'm nervous, but I also want to enjoy every second of it. As I'm about to drop my jeans, I take a second to look at what she's wearing. For the first time, I notice that she is wearing a skirt. And when I see her skirt, something in my brain tells me something is wrong. Something is wrong but I can't f------ figure out what it is. Then a vision hits me. She is standing before me. Her skirt and panties lay discarded on the floor. She is gazing at me with the same look that she gave me on the couch, but this time the chill that goes down my spine isn't a good one. The more I look into her eyes the more disturbed I become. She has her hands over her crotch, and she is standing with her legs spread. And that's when I hear it, the wet ripping sound. She moves her hands and a monster-sized c--- emerges from her. I lose my mind. I fall to the floor and start screaming. I'm screaming like I'm a New Yorker who has just witnessed United Airlines 175 disappear into the South Tower. Somewhere along the line, my screaming gives way to sobs. My girlfriend is tenified by what is happening. When I don't stop sobbing, she realizes something is very wrong. I'm not sure exactly sure how she does it, but she is able to contact my mom. The next thing I remember is my Mom holding me and walking me towards her car. I'm sitting in the car. I'm sobbing and sometimes I let out a whimper. My mom is repeating the phrases, "there, there" and "it's alright". My mom will never ask me what upset me so badly that day. She will never question why my girlfriend and I were alone together. Someone, I don't know who, has managed to zip up my jeans. Again, if my Mom ever noticed my jeans unzipped, she never questions me about it. For all those accounts, I am grateful. When we arive home, she guides me through the house, up the stairs, and into my bedroom. I lie down on my bed, and I curl up in a ball. I am still sobbing but as time passes, it slowly stops. Eventually, I asleep I woke up early the next moming. It is around 5 o'clock, and sunlight is just beginning to filter in through the window blinds. I take a breath, and I feel that something has changed. I think I know what it is, but I'm unsure. I take another breath, and this time I'm sure. The weight that I have been carrying around for years is gone. Somehow, all the screaming and crying I have done has finally done what therapy and jokes has failed to: I don't feel the trauma anymore. I am ready to move on. A wave of euphoria rushes over me. In an instant, I am out of bed. I get an urge; I want to see the sunrise. I head down the stairs and out into the backyard. The air is cool and fresh. I drink it in. Birds fly by overhead, and I watch them disappear into the horizon. The sunm is just beginning to peak out from the rooftops. I stand there, and as I stand there, I start to hum. At first I am unaware ofit, but as the sun begins to climbs, I take notice. Now most of you will laugh at what I'm about to tell you. Some of you will even call me a f----- when I tell you what I was humming. But as I stood there watching the sun rise, I felt that there wasn't a more beautiful song. It's a hymn that we sometimes sing in church. It's called "Moming Has Broken". And as I watched the sun rise out of the rooftops, I stopped humming it and began singing the lyrics: Moming has broken like the first moming Blackbird has spoken like the first bird Praise for the singing, praise for the moming Praise for them springing fresh from the world III A lot of time has passed since that Saturday moning. I am able to joke about Bible Black now and, when I do, I don't feel pain. The weight that disappeared from me that moming has never retumed. A few weeks after my breakdown, my girlfriend and I tried again. And this time, when we stand together in her bedroom, I did not see a monster-c--- version of her, but her in all her splendor. There is one thing that worries me from time to time, though. Sometimes, I go back to the lake that my family and I used to visit. Sometimes, when I'm sitting along the banks of the lake or I'm rowing across the lake in a boat, I think I hear it: the wet ripping sound. The first time I went back to the lake after I had my breakdown, I heard it coming towards me as I was sitting along the banks of the lake. I was on picnic with my girlfriend, who, of my sandwich when I at the time I'm writing this, is now my wife. I'm about to take a bite hear it: the wet ripping sound. My girlfriend notices a change in me. I don't know what changes in me, but I can tell she's woried "What's the matter, Anon?" I begin to shake. Just as I think I'm about to lose control, I see a rock sitting next to me. I take it in my free hand, and I toss it into the lake. I hear it plop. The plop seems to reverberate across the lake. I listen closely. The wet ripping sound is gone. I tumed to look at my girlfriend. I smiled. "Nothing, babe." I said. "Nothing." WORL IS THAT STORY TRUE, ANON? WELL, MOST OF IT.

Bible Black Gives Anon PTSD by AndroidConan


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Phosphophyllite Article Talk From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia Phosphophyllite (from Ancient Greek phyllon 'leaf, and phosphate) is a rar chemical formula Zn2Fe(PO4)2 4H2O, composed of hydrated zind phosphate it collectors for its rarity and for its delicate bluish green colour Phosphophyllite fragile and brittle, and large crystals are too valuable to be broken up.[4] POLD The nt, The fines phosphophyllite crystals come from longer mined there. Other sources include New and Hagendorf, Bavaria, Germany. It is often fe the minerals cha cop rite and triphone. [5 Phosphophyllite has been synthesized syntheti diammonium phosphate to a solution of zinc an Popular culture [edit] form of phosphophyllite is the protagonist of the ries Land of the Lustrous, with key features of the itle nature and vibrant color reflected in their Tesign.17 A 16 languages Read Edit View history Tools ▼ Category Formula Phosphophyllite General Phosphate minerals hydrated zinc phosphate (repeating unit) (Zn₂Fe(PO4)2-4H2O) IMA symbol Pp Strunz classification 8.C Crystal system Monoclinic NOT SHOWING THAT Prismatic (2/m) References[edit] 1. ^ Warr, L.N. (2021). "IMA-CHMINC approved mineral symbols". Mineralogical Magazine. 85 (3): 291-320. Bibcode:2021MinM. 85.291W . doi:10.1180/mgm.2021.43. S2CID 235729616. 2. ^ "Mineralatla, Lexikon - Phosphophyllite (english Version)". www.mineralienatlas.de. 3. Phosphophyllite". Retrieved 2006-12-16. 4. ^ Hall, Cally (1994). Gemstones. Great Britain: Dorling Kindersley. p. 127. ISBN 0-7513-1026-3. 5. ^ "The mineral phosphophyllite". Amethyst Galleries, Inc. Archived from the original on 2006-10-17. Retrieved 2006-12-16. (same H-M symbol) Crystal class Space group P2₁/C Identification Formula mass 448.40 g/mol Color Crystal habit Twinning Blue-green to colourless Prismatic Common
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